A Pearl Reset
by Lady Eleanor Boleyn
Summary: What if Henry had kept a brooch of Catherine's? One he later gave to Mary? One-shot. Takes place after Mary has been publicly reconciled with her father in 3.01


_A Pearl Reset_

_Lady Mary Tudor sat before the mirror in her chambers – lavish chambers, the first that were truly fit for a King's daughter that she had inhabited since her father first married Anne Boleyn, almost 4 years earlier. Her coppery golden hair was loose about her shoulders, for the hour was late, and she had begun her preparations to retire for the night, when all of a sudden, there was a slight knock at the door._

_Mary started. She had just been daydreaming about what life would be like, now that her father had taken her back into his good graces – she certainly hadn't expected a visitor at this time of night. No matter. She was the daughter of a Princess of Spain, and a King of England. Courtesy, no matter what hour of the day (or night) it was, had been bred into her from the day she was born. She would greet this guest, whoever it was, with all the grace and poise she could muster._

_Nodding to young Catherine Willoughby to open the door, she drew on her hood quickly, and turned to the door, leaping up and dropping into a deep curtsy as soon as she saw who it was who stood there._

"_My lord Father."_

"_Mary, dear daughter. How are you? Recovered from your faint earlier?"_

"_Yes, sire. And yourself? How goes it with you?"_

"_Never better, thank you, Mary. It pleases me greatly to have you returned to Court."_

"_Not as much as it does me to be here, of that I can safely assure you, Your-" _

_Her father cut her off as she formed his formal title with her lips, raising a hand to halt her speaking._

"_No, Mary. Not "Your Majesty." "Father." Call me Father."_

"_Very well – __Father**."**__ she replied, gesturing to him to take the most comfortable armchair by the fire, whilst she herself drew up a stool and perched on it near his feet. "May I ask what brings you here at this hour of the night?"_

"_I was about to retire myself, sweetheart, when I thought to look in and see how you did."_

"_I thank you for your concern, Father, but I am perfectly fine. These apartments are simply gorgeous. You are far too kind to give them to me."_

"_Nonsense." Her father reached out with an almost tentative hand, and stroked her hair where it showed beneath her richly bejewelled hood – a gift from Her Majesty Queen Jane. "Nothing is too good for you now, my darling. My sweet, sweet Mary."_

_Mary smiled the first true smile she had in years as he caressed her, and then, suddenly, all too soon, it was over. Her father withdrew his hand, and Mary feared he would rise, wish her goodnight, and leave her as she was, craving for more, but not receiving it. She couldn't bear the thought of that, even if it was understandable. She had been starved of his parental affection for so long that, now she had it again, she felt she could never have enough of it._

_But no. Her father, without getting up, reached into an inside pocket of his doublet, withdrawing a little box. As she watched him, scarcely daring to breathe, to believe, to hope, he held it out to her._

"_And I also came by to give you this. It was your mother's. She would have wanted you to have it."_

_Mary gingerly took the box from his outstretched hand, brushing his calloused palm with her gentle, slender fingers. He watched her to see her reaction as she opened it and viewed its contents._

_Mary gasped. The intricacy of the seemingly brittle brooch that gleamed up at her was astounding, and the pearl that sat nestled in the centre was perfect, gleaming milky white in the warm glow of the fire. _

"_A lover's knot." she murmured._

"_Made of finest rose gold, and set with the best pearl the jeweller could find." Her father confirmed. "I gave it to your mother the day you were baptised."_

"_And now you're giving it to me." Mary whispered. Her father nodded. _

_Lifting it out of the box, she studied it more closely. Now that she peered at it properly, she could see that it wasn't unblemished. The pearl in the middle had been reset, leaving the tiniest line of markings where it used to be. No-one who didn't know what to look for would notice, even if they were up close, but Mary, who had been forced to have her jewels reset time and time again, just so that she could continue to dress and bedeck herself like the King's daughter she was, recognised the signs instantly. It didn't matter, though. The brooch had been her mother's, and for that reason alone, she adored it._

"_The pearl's been reset." It was half a statement, half a question, but there wasn't a hint of accusation anywhere in her voice. She glanced up at her father, her coppery-golden hair swinging forward into her face as she did so. She didn't say thank you. There were no words available in the world which could even begin to even express __**half**__ the joy and gratitude she felt towards her father now._

_Luckily, he understood._

"_Yes, it's been reset. I had it reset for you, Mary. It's been reset, and you, my dearest, dearest daughter, have been reset too. You, my love, have been restored to where you truly belong in this family. You're the pearl of my world again, and you always will be. I promise."_

"_But, surely, Father, your children by Queen Jane – won't you love them more than you love me? They'll be legitimate." Mary half protested, half asked. She wanted to know where she stood. Her father shook his head._

"_No. Legitimate or not, I could never love them as much as I love you, Mary. You're the pearl of my world again, and you always will be."_

_Her father beckoned her to seat herself on his lap. She did so without a second thought. Tipping her face up to his, he kissed her firmly on the forehead._

"_You're the greatest jewel in all of England." he whispered tenderly, wrapping his arms around her. Mary leant her head back against his chest, and fell asleep in his warm embrace._


End file.
